Sixth Sense
"What do you mean, 'what's the matter with me'? I'm perfectly content right as I am, thank you."
"Something is definitely up, Moony, and I don't mean it's almost your time of the month." Sirius gives Remus one long, appraising look, complete with a very Sirius-like stroke of the beard, before passing his judgment. "It's my cousin, isn't it?"
"I don't know what you're talking about, Padfoot." Remus says, a little too quickly to be true.
"Come off it, mate." Sirius smirks, throwing one leg over the arm of his chair. "It is absolutely Tonks. I've known you three-quarters of my life. You couldn't trick me even if I weren't psychic."
Remus gives him a look, then locks his gaze pointedly with the floor, fiddling with a loose thread on his armchair. "Half of which was spent in Azkaban. And you were crap at Divination."
"Listen, you and I both know you've got it bad. And honestly, I think it's about bloody time you got yourself laid."
The glare shot in Sirius' direction is indication enough that his comment does not exactly sit well with Remus.
"Alright, alright, you win. But be serious, man, she's arse over teakettle—" Remus finds himself with a distinct mental image of Tonks dropping a pot of Earl Grey and falling down the stairs—"Get a good look at her next Order meeting. You'll see what I mean."
Remus sighs. "How did you know?"
"Told you before, mate," Sirius grins, "I'm psychic."
A/N: I hope it's fairly obvious this drabble is set almost directly after number 11, "Who." I imagine Sirius would lord his knowledge of Remus and Tonks' mutual affection for each other over both of their heads for a bit and savor every second of it. ;P The Reviewers' Brive for the evening is an aged bottle of firewhiskey, complete with Sirius as a drinking buddy :) Hope you like, everyone!